Breathing In
by Musiclover14
Summary: Bronchitis: The inflammation and swelling of the bronchi. It can be an unpleasant illness but certainly someone will be there to help Brennan feel better. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Something that was originally supposed to be a one-shot but got a little bit out of hand. I am still a little foreign to these characters so please forgive me as I tried to stay as in character as possible.**

**Please note the fact that I am not a medical doctor and outside of my own recent personal experience with the illness and some basic research on the internet I do not know much about bronchitis. Symptoms of the illness can vary and this is how it was for me. Ergo that is what I wrote. I do hope it is accurate. Enjoy! Oh, and who else is excited that we will finally be having a new episode tomorrow!! Except for you lucky Canadians who already got to watch...I am jealous.**

* * *

The Jeffersonian was busy with its usual craziness on a Wednesday afternoon. Things appeared as normal, Hodgins running around preforming complex and obscene experiments, Angela in the midst of some sort of drama, the interns all desperately trying to please Dr. Brennan the best they could and poor Cam trying to police it all. Today, however, there was one very big difference. Temperance Brennan was ill. A detail that she had seemed to of simply ignored.

For once the woman found herself grateful that there was no case at the moment. Being locked up in her office would mean that not only could she work in peace, but also that no one would hear her torturous coughs as they rushed heavily from her chest, or the fact that she was so obviously flushed, or that she looked as exhausted as she felt.

To her the symptoms were obvious, she was a doctor after all; cough, headache, slight fever, congestion, sore throat. Clearly, she had bronchitis. An illness of which she was well aware was contagious, causing her insistence of remaining in her office throughout the day. She had more than enough to do there and had every intention of making herself very useful. Perhaps venturing to the forensic platform later in the day. Although contagious she was still a grown woman who was capable of preventing the spread of germs.

She was well prepared to turn down whoever it may be that was coming to knock on her door-she had heard the footsteps approaching-but found herself unable to as air expelled itself forcefully. The harsh, barking sound of it surprised her. Her door being opened without a knock and a certain FBI agent rushing in with a panicked look however, did not.

"You sound awful, Bones," he comments as he takes in his partners state. Unhealthy, was the first word that flashed to his mind. From the light sheen of sweat that had broke out on her forehead to the fact that her shoes had been kicked off, it all told him just how awful she must be feeling. Which, by extension, would mean that not only would he be calling out of work for the day but that he should prepare to put up with one hell of a fight.

"It is not nearly as bad as it sounds," she denies to him. Temperance never saw the logic in lying, no matter what the situation may be, but when it came to her being sick she seemed to put more effort into keeping others from discovering of her illness than she did of trying to heal from it.

"I don't believe you," he tells her simply and honestly. Brennan could lie all she wanted but Booth saw through it all, he did knew her better than anyone else. Even so it did not take any sort of trained or well adapted eye to pick up on the fact that she was sick. Brennan may as well been holding up a sign proclaiming it with the way she looked today.

"That is your prerogative I suppose." She wanders from the couch where she had been doing paperwork over to her desk, shuffling papers and trying to remain collected and ignore his fixed and studying stare. "Do we have a-" Her question is cut off as the sharp and deep sounds resonate from her. "Case," she squeaks out before attempting to get a lungful of air.

"I was just coming to see if you wanted to go to lunch," Booth explains half-heartedly. His eyes have glazed over and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to be able to take her home and lay down with her until she felt better. He kept himself a safe distance away from her though.

"Lunch would be-"

"So not happening now," he interrupts, ready to begin an argument with her. Her well being versus the work that needed to be done. It was different this time. Booth had never actually seen Temperance Brennan sick. Injured, all the time, stalked/death threats, every other case it seemed, but sick? Sick was new to him. Sick scared him when it came to her. Because Brennan didn't get sick. It just wasn't her.

"Booth, please, do not start," she asks him as nicely and quietly, per the pounding headache that was increasing in its pain as she talked. "I am fine."

"Fine?" he questions incredulously. "I've heard fine and that isn't even close to it."

"It is just a little cough," she argues trying in vain to fight off the next set of them that erupted from her chest. It seemed to send her entire body into spasms, sending an actual pain through her body.

"Damn it, Temperance, don't do this to me." He sounded pleading, something that caused him to check himself before he would speak again.

"Do what?" she found herself asking breathlessly. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly.

"Make me worry so much," he explains to her, somehow finding his voice to of dropped several decibels. He walked over to her, pushing a cup of water in front of her and crouching down beside the chair. "You're sick."

Brennan takes a sip of the liquid. It gave her a cooling effect in her mouth and then left a trail of fire down her throat. "It is not so bad."

"How long?" he asks with no further words. Of course she would know exactly what his question meant.

"Since Sunday," she tells him and hangs her head in shame. Brennan was beginning to feel the willpower in her drift away. The affects of the illness were wearing on her since she had awoken to the sound of her blaring alarm that morning and having Booth next to her sent her an irrational desire to give in and just submit to the illness and let him care for her.

"I should have come by before today," he mutters regretfully to himself. He had called her of course, and had missed her dearly over the course of these past few days, but he had held himself back until today.

"Booth, I'm fine," she tries weakly one more time as she squares her shoulders into her usual proper posture and begins to type something on her computer.

"Take the day off, Bones," he says with a touch of force but also a softness, a deep, underlying concern that he was unsure if she could detect or not.

"I hardly find it necessary." Her next argument of being perfectly fine was interrupted by just how not perfectly fine she was. Strong coughs took over her, each one weaker than the next from the lack of oxygen as they continued. Her head fell down to her desk as they continued, breathing in as fast and deep as she could only to have it exhaled just quickly and with three times the force. "Just today," she murmurs with her head still laying on the desk.

"Thanks, Bones," he tells her and gives her a smile when she lifts her head to look at him. "I'll run and tell Cam while you get what you need to take home?" he questions, hesitant on whether he should just leave her here. She would lecture him for if she knew what was running through his mind. Probably on how she was slightly sick not a complete invalid. The thought made him chuckle to himself.

"Alright," she agrees simply and watches him run off as she begins gathering her laptop and its cords into her bag. She was currently unsure if she was more upset or happier with this new arrangement. She wanted to work in solitude and just let the illness run its course. At the same time she nearly felt her heart swell from the fact that he seemed to at least care enough to do this in the first place. So far if anyone else had noticed that had yet to say anything. That was more her fault for locking herself in her office though of course. "Does she mind?" Brennan asks in a worry tone as Booth reappears.

"Not at all, Dr. Brennan," Cam herself says as she turns the corner into Brennan's office, stethoscope in tow around her neck.

"I feel comfortable in the assumption that you wish to listen to my lungs," Brennan says as she sits on the edge of the couch, dropping her bag beside her feet.

"Then you can feel free to go," she says as she takes the stethoscope, placing the parts in their appropriate places.

Booth watched as Brennan was instructed to breathe in and out, hold her breath, take a deep breath, more than once as well since she would begin her coughing so frequently. His heart ached as he watched her struggling just to breathe in. Suddenly he felt so much guilt over his absence for the last few days. He should have had lunch with her sooner or gone out to dinner with her or just come by to see her. Then perhaps it would not have reached such a degree.

"Definitely bronchitis," Cam assesses. "Although if you do not begin to take care of yourself, Dr. Brennan, you could very quickly develop pneumonia. Something you know as well as I do needs to be avoided."

Brennan nods her head in agreement suddenly feeling embarrassment over her boss diagnosing her. "Of course, Dr. Saroyan."

"I'm writing you a prescription and giving you until Monday off," she says and begins to fill out a piece of paper she'd had with her. "Mandatorily."

"Don't worry, Camille. I'll lock her up if I have to." Booth speaks up from the other side of the room for the first time and flashes a brief charm smile.

"I'm sure you will, Seeley," she tells him. Half replying to him just to counter attack in the name category. "Get well soon, Dr. Brennan." And with that she is gone.

"I've never understood why people say that," Brennan comments as she stands and picks up her bag again. "Their demand for one to get better in small time span will not actually cause the person to heal quicker."

"I know," Booth replies simply as he places his hand to the small of her back. They walk quietly from the building, his hand moving from her back to his entire arm wrapped around her, helping her support her weight some. "Cam called the drug store already so your prescription will be waiting," Booth tells her as they reach his car and he opens her door for her, allowing her to get in on her own. "I can just run in and grab it on our way home." He walks to his side and climbs in, starting the engine and pulling out.

"Sounds like a logical plan," Temperance agrees as she leans her head back, shutting her eyes and burying her face into her elbow as the violent cough over takes her yet again. She seemed to barely catch her breath before being assaulted once again. It was exhausting after a while.

Booth keeps his mouth shut as they drive, wanting to ask her how she feels or if anything hurts. He wanted to give her peace and just let her try and pretend to him that she was okay. That was how Brennan would want it and he wanted to respect that best he could. She needed independence but at the same time he couldn't be expected to sit back and just let her hang around in misery. Silently he gets from the car and grabs the things he knows she will need quickly before paying and getting back into the SUV. Her eyes open as he reenters the car, snatching the prescription from his hand. "Excited about taking that there, Bones?" he asks her with a teasing smile.

She shoots him a glance back before returning her gaze to the medicine. "I was just checking to be sure it was a suppressant along with an expectorant along with not causing me to be drowsy," she explains to him while she quickly scans over the ingredients, satisfied with Cam's choice. "What else did purchase?" she asks as she see the plastic bag in his hand.

Booth allowed her to finish her sudden coughing before replying. "Three different types of cough drops, for variety of course." He hands her one of the bags now, giving her a pointed look as he did so. "Some Motrin, since you told me it has the most ibuprofen which will help with both your fever and headache."

"I didn't tell you I had a headache, Booth," she says in a questioning tone, popping the honey flavored cough drop into her mouth.

"I could tell," he explains simply as he backs the car out from the parking space and back on to the road.

"What else is there?" she asks while trying to see herself through the thin plastic of the bag.

"That'd be a candy bar for me," he tells her with a smile. "I would've gotten you one, but you're Bones."

"I don't know what that means," she replies plainly.

"You know, you eat healthy and stuff."

"Stuff is not the most proper word but if you mean I don't believe in eating processed sugars and empty carbohydrates then yes, I do," she says and is surprised to hear a laugh from Booth. He answers her before she can answer though due to her next set of coughs.

"That's exactly what I mean, Bones."

He pulls into the parking spot for her apartment and grabs the bag, meeting her at the front of the car and placing his hand to the small of her back. They walk up to her apartment, Brennan trying to ignore the fire that was igniting in her lungs and Booth trying to ignore his desire to pull her closer and comfort her. He knew before she even opened the door that it would be a long day.

They walk in and Booth gets straight to business. "Medicine and then I think you should probably go lay down." He pours the red liquid into the dosage cup and hands it to her, smiling gently when she curls her nose up in disgust at the taste of it. "No offense but you look like hell."

"I do believe that is a bit offensive, Booth," she tells him all the while getting herself some organic orange juice to both rinse out her mouth and take the two ibuprofen which had been placed into her hand.

"Sorry there, Bones," he apologises, having decided against trying to explain the meaning of a person commenting no offense. She turns and walks towards her bedroom, Booth follows with her orange juice in hand. He tries hard to keep his eyes from wandering around the room in mystical wonder as he sets the drink on to her night stand for her. "Get some sleep."

"Are you-" she stops, holding the question from escaping from her mouth. A cough seemed to decide on filling its place. His gaze fixes on to her and once she catches her breath she knows there was little choice on being able to take back her originally intended question. "Are you going to stay here?" she whispers to him, eyes cast down in shame.

"Course I will," Booth tells her while keeping his voice as pleasant as possible. She had looked so sad while asking him, even his mind was unable to process the reasoning behind it at the moment.

"You know you don't have to, don't you?" She didn't want him to feel trapped. She wanted him to know he had a choice. At the same time she was not sure what she wanted for him to choose. Her heart, metaphorical one of course, screamed for him to stay, to help her to get better and to be there to care fo her. However her brain was disputing any such ridiculous notion. Why in the world would she want him to dare see her in this weakened and pathetic state? Surely he would think so much less of her after seeing such a thing.

"I'll be in the living room," he says and turns and walks toward the door. "Get some rest, Bones." With that he shuts the door and sits himself down on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I really must thank you all for the response I have gotten on this story. I was rather surprised by all of the story alerts I received with this. So thank you, especially to those of you who took the time to review. I appreciate it. **

**Now, when it come to the chapter let me just say that this is where a bit of the romance aspect plays in. I have never written much concerning that so I am unsure as to how well it may have come out. Hopefully it went okay. I do hope you enjoy it and that it at leasts meet your expectations to some degree. Also, I have not yet completed the third and final installment so perhaps there is a certain button of which you can push in order to persuade me into doing so more quickly. Just saying.**

An hour later and Booth was finding himself so horribly torn. The coughing seemed to get so much worse ever since Brennan had gone and lain down. It sounded violent and painful, her muscles must be hurting at this point. And never did it seem to stop. He was beginning to wonder how she was even breathing by now. She just coughed and coughed, he could even tell she was trying to fruitlessly muffle the sound by burying her face into a pillow at some point. His heart ached as he heard the awful sounds coming from her bedroom. She must be in misery at this point.

He walked to her room, knocking gently on the door before opening it and poking his head in. Her eyes stared up at him tiredly and he could see her struggle to hold back a cough, only to be . "You don't sound so hot, Bones."

She shakes her head at him, as though trying to say she is fine. Something that was clearly the very opposite of what she was considering her flushed face and watered eyes. Along with the fact that as she tried to inhale it was all forced out so harshly it was hard to believe that something like that could not cause pain.

After seeing her it takes him but a minute to make his final decision. His shoes were previously kicked off and his jacket long ago removed as he gestures for her to sit up. She does so silently and he lays himself behind her, his legs encircling her sides and allowing her to lay back against his chest.

Brennan hacks as she falls back against him, but the feeling of comfort that fills her automatically takes over her in an inexplicable manner. "Here," Booth says reaching over and removing the peeling of a cough drop. "These are here for a reason." She takes it from him and sucks on it, trying to ignore the poorly concealed gross flavor that infiltrates her mouth. He says nothing as her coughing continues, just strokes her hair, lovingly or subconsciously Brennan neither knew nor cared, and his other hand rested on her stomach. She felt so relaxed and loved in that moment. A warmness coursed through her veins as she laid against him and she did not think it was more possible for two people to ever fit together any better than this.

"Better?" he asks her after a few minutes.

"Yes," she whispers to him, her voice now hoarse. The intimacy of the moment did not go unnoticed by either, but Brennan had every intention of using it to her full advantage. Her head fell into his shoulder and her fingertips began tracing patterns on the hand that was laid across her abdomen.

"Can I ask you something?" he says to her, continuing with her quiet tone even though it was only the two of them.

"Didn't you just do so?" she asks and smiles to herself.

"Smart ass," he tells her and she tries to laugh only to find herself burying her face into his arm to cough against. He hears a muttered "sorry" but doesn't find the need to address it. Instead he just returns to the question he'd had in his mind for quite a while now. "Why do you fight letting people take care of you when you're sick so much?"

She thinks about it, considers the reasonings and finds herself contemplating the idea. "I suppose," she starts as she reprocesses her conclusion once more. "It may have something to do with when I was younger." Booth's hand stops for a moment on its journey through her hair but picks back up a minute later, continuing the gentle strokes. "I was sixteen at the time," she tells him and he automatically knows what that means, foster care. "I was terribly sick, the worst I had ever been and they just..." she trails off, falling silent at the memory. "They just kept screaming at me for it, beating me as though it were my fault."

Booth feels his heart pick up its pace, both in anger and in anguish at hearing her words. Brennan curls into him, trying to bury her face and hide her tears that were forced out by the roughness of her next coughs. "Every time I tried to get out of bed everything would spin and go black, but I learned to push myself and get it together so they wouldn't be so angry at me for it. Ever since then, I have refused any illness to control me in any way."

"You know that I would never-"

"Of course, Booth," she interrupts him before he can even finish the absurd sentence. Of course she knew, Booth would never dare do such a thing to a woman or another human being for that matter. "I know," she murmurs against his chest in a reassurance as she feels her eyes slipping shut, giving into the fever that was helping her heal on the inside and wearing her down on the outside. The coughs racked her body now and then but eventually she drifted into a restful slumber.

* * *

The sudden choking caused her to awake in an alarming manner. She sat up swiftly, trying in vain to stop the chokes and catch her breath. Booth somehow appeared by her and began to rub her back, the look of concern etched into his face as her eyes watered. "I'm sorry," she whispers out and he kisses the top of her head. Something that sends tingles down through her entire body despite how awful she felt at the moment. His touch was causing her entire body to react even more so today. Perhaps from the intimacy of it all, him in her bedroom, her laying against him, certainly could explain it some.

"I hardly think being sick warrants an apology," he tells her and glances to the clock. Nearly five hours had passed, surprising him quite a bit. He had not had the intention of falling asleep with her. There came a point where he had just unintentionally drifted into unconsciousness though. "You need to take some more medicine. How do you feel?"

Brennan clears her throat, feeling the heaviness of sleep and mucus lingering in it. "Similar to how I was before," she admits to him. She had slept for hours and yet her eyelids still felt so heavy. She wanted nothing more than to curl back up against him and sleep more, well that and for the coughing to cease.

Booth's eyebrows furrowed in discontentment on hearing that. He had been hoping that she was at least feeling a little better. "You need to eat something."

"I am really not hungry at all." Whenever she had a fever her appetite disappeared. She had gone an entire week without eating a thing once when she'd had the flu. Right now the idea of eating anything solid made her stomach churn in disgust. "I would rather not spend my night regurgitating Thai food either."

"I was thinking I could just make you some soup," he suggests, not preferring the idea of her simply not eating. Surely there must be some sort of logical reasoning to back him, not getting enough nutrients or minerals or something.

"I suppose that may be okay," she agrees and moves to get up from bed, her breath whisked away by a cough and her headache reminding her of its painful existence. She groaned at how awful she began to feel in that moment.

Booth holds himself back from holding her up and allowed her to walk by herself to the kitchen table, knowing she would desire the small amount of independence. He starts by giving her the medicine and her drink and then begins to search for a can of Campbells or Progresso. "Don't you have any basic soup in a can, Bones?" The more he looked the more he realised just how little she actually had to eat. Did the woman ever have a meal in her own house?

"No," she mutters in reply, her head now cradled in her arms having decided to just allow Booth to view her as the weakling she was in that moment. "The amount of preservatives in those is simply disgusting. I have something organic somewhere I think."

He rolls his eyes at her typical response, finally discovering the small can of vegetable soup in a nearly otherwise bare cupboard. He sets off to work with preparing it, scanning the directions quickly to make sure that it was prepared as all the others were. Shortly after he deposits the bowl of steaming soup in front of her and takes a seat across from where she was. "Aren't you going to take your Motrin?" he asks her while gesturing to the two small pills still sitting next to her glass of juice.

"You can't take it on any empty stomach," she explains simply while taking a small spoonful of the soup. "It can damage your liver and cause you to be nauseous."

"Good to know," he says and watches her eat in silence. His own need for food had been forgotten long ago. "Are you still tired?"

"Not tired necessarily," she tells him and furrows her eyebrows in confusion of her own response.

"I was thinking we could watch a movie," Booth suggests with a tinge of excitement to his voice.

"I don't have a television," she reminds him pointedly and then pushing her still half full bowl of soup away.

"You have a computer," he reciprocates with a slightly devious smile.

"But no DVDs," she smiles, feeling as though she had one, the coughing fit quickly reminded her of the fact that she was certainly not winning anything at the moment.

"I have some in my car." His eyes scan across her, watching carefully as she coughed, seemingly in pain from the look that came upon her face. "If you're up for it, I mean," he adds suddenly feeling guilty. Although he was not sure as to why.

"I suppose a movie would be fine. I never find them all that interesting though," she warns. "Plus you may not be able to hear anything over the sounds of my coughing."

"They have subtitles on them for a reason." He smiles at her and she returns it with one of her. Albeit it was half-hearted and did not quite reach to her eyes but it was still beautiful. "I'll be right back," he says and dashes down to his car to gather the films he had laying around in there. He runs back upstairs and finds her sitting on the ground trying to plug her laptop in, all the while coughing violently enough to shake her entire body. "Let me help," he says and she looks surprised to see him suddenly. She backs away and allows him to plug the computer in though.

Brennan falls back on to the bed, only to sit up and desperately rip off the paper to a cough drop, depositing it into her mouth and beginning to catch her breath again.

"Are you sure this is only bronchitis?" he asks with concern. Wasn't it supposed to be a fairly common illness? Who knew it could cause so much agony.

"Certain," is her short response. Brennan watches as he pulls the lap top over to the bed, his eyes scanning across the bed as though in wonder as to where he should sit. To her concealed disappointment her takes a sits next to her, plopping his body down and adjusting the pillows to lay comfortably against the headboard. He inserts the disc to the player and brings up her rarely used DVD player. She's unsure what the movie is, her mind occupied too much with trying to breath along with her desperation to curl against Booth and just hide against him while seeking comfort.

A series of coughs racked her body heavily. They caused her to jolt upright and hack forcefully while trying desperately to inhale, that was the part she hated the most. The fact that she could not just get a decent breath in, feeling like she had held her breath for a long time and then couldn't get that wonderful release of allowing air to rush and fill her lungs. When she finally stopped she allowed herself to collapse back against Booth, his arm extended to hold her. She turns into him, burying her head into the crook of his neck and just allowing her coughs to go against his shoulder, something that she was sure he must find unpleasant but allowed her to do so anyhow.

"You can go to sleep you know," he says quietly to her as he saw her fighting to keep her eyes open.

"My eyelids are heavy but my mind doesn't seem to want to allow my body to submit to sleep," she admits to him and lets her eyes slip shut, although still completely aware of everything around her. She breaths Booth in deeply, expelling it moments later but enjoying his scent before hand. Her mind began to focus on how he stroked her back the soft laugh he gave at something said in the movie.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks her quietly, wanting to know what it was that kept her up when she was so exhausted.

"You," she tells him honestly and smiles to herself when she can feel his heartbeat, which her hand had conveniently rested over, quicken.

"Oh yeah?" he asks teasingly. All the while he was really trying to hold himself together. For once in her life Brennan couldn't just lie and say something that wouldn't cause his heart to beat from his chest. God, she was even more beautiful here, resting against him and just allowing him to support her weight.

"Yeah," she says and neither of them say another word after that. Both to avoid any possible awkwardness and also because neither of them was sure they would be able to hold back their desires in that moment. Suddenly the movie was the last thing either of them was paying attention to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, here is the end. I meant to get this posted earlier but I ended up deleting what I had before and rewriting just about everything I had. I am still not so happy with it, but I suppose I am just going to have to deal with that now aren't I?**

**Thank you to all of you have put this on alert and for favoriting. A special thanks to any of you who reviewed. I apologise if I did not reply to them, but I assumed that you would appreciate another chapter than just some lame thank you. I do hope you enjoy it although I find it worse than the two previous chapters. Thank you all once more.**

They had laid together in perfect contentment for a while, Brennan dosing on and off, the only thing retaining her from slipping into a peaceful slumber being the coughs that would treacherously rack her body from time to time. Their moments of peace ended when Brennan's next dosage of cough medicine was required. They broke apart, separating limbs and stretching their muscles.

The journey to the kitchen was silent, neither speaking of what had happened before or what may occur later. Both just trying to relax into the comfort of one another, that being enough for each of them in this moment. They followed the quickly adapted routine; medicine, juice, crackers and finally the pills. All of it being carried out in a simple and easy process.

Finally they stood, Booth looking to Brennan and Brennan to Booth. The air seemed to switch from relaxed and loving to awkward and with tension. Neither knowing what it was they should do or what was to transpire in that moment. He smiled to her, she to him, the silence still hung between them.

"Considering the amount of time you have been here and the lack of precautionary measures we have taken it is fairly possible that you yourself could become sick," Brennan tells him, using her knowledge as an escape. It was much easier to say something that held no meaning to it, just words that meant what they were, no hidden messages .

"I never get sick," Booth defuses simply.

"What if you do?" she questions, her voice laden with worry over the possibility. Surely he would not be happy with her if she caused him to contract the illness.

"It's worth it," he replies in a lower tone, one that sent shivers through Brennan. She was held back from replying immediately due to her coughs and had to admit she was somewhat grateful. "Besides, if I do you'll come take care of me won't you?"

She thinks he is teasing, but her and her damn inability to detect basic signals during common interaction caused her to be completely unsure of herself. "Well that may very well be counter-productive as I could just retract the illness yet again." The clinical answer escaped her mouth simply, that was what seemed logical to her brain. She should let her metaphorical heart answer perhaps. Then maybe the look that had fallen across his face may fade. "However I would not find it at all fair for you to be alone while you were, especially considering how bored you would get during that time, so yes. I would help care for you."

"Thanks, Bones," he says and another smile comes across his face, even his eyes sparkling with some quality. "Are you feeling any better?" he questions, his eyes now clouding over with concern and losing the glimmering look they held before.

"The ibuprofen has lowered my fever and lessened my headache," she tells him truthfully, lessened being a word very carefully chosen considering there was still pulsing right behind her eyes. "The cough suppressant appears to be helping some when coupled with the cough drops as well."

"So...Better?" he asks hoping for a more simple and clear response.

"Yes," she says and tries to swallow a cough down, failing of course but continuing once it has stopped. "Better." Her eyes wander around the apartment, desiring some sort of activity the two of them could partake in.

"Are you still tired?" he continues with his line of questioning, hoping to get at least a somewhat truthful response from her with each one.

"I am most certainly not fond of the proposal of laying back down again," Brennan admits. She was beginning to feel what Booth would describe as antsy.

"Are you getting restless?" he asks in a bit of understanding. The great Dr. Temperance Brennan would of course have a hard time laying around in bed all day.

"Yes, that and rather unproductive." Her mind tried to categorize just what she had accomplished today and the end result was an unsatisfying nothing. What was worse was when she thought of just what she could do, aside from write which just sound so highly unappealing at the moment, she drew a complete blank.

"Would you like to do something?" Booth asks in a slightly amused tone. Figure it be that Brennan is the one who can't just be sick while they are sick. Doesn't want to watch movies, or nap, but instead she feels a desire to actually move about and follow through with some activity.

"I would," she tells him and scans the room once more. "I just am not sure what exactly can be done." She coughs harshly for a moment, her mind processing through possible activities as she does so. "I suppose I could always clean," she comments, figuring the dust that must have collected on top of her cabinets and fridge by now.

"Bones," Booth replies, his tone inching towards complaining. "You're sick, that means restful activities permitted only."

"Fine," she tells him and walks away, trying to do so with some amount of dignity but loses that as the persistent cough makes itself present again.

"Where are you going?" he calls after her.

"I can do laundry, can't I?" she asks and finds him walking beside her as she saunters back into the bedroom.

"Why don't we play Scrabble or something," Booth suggests in an uncertain tone.

"I hardly see how that would be a legitimate competition considering my IQ far exceeds your," Brennan comments while picking up handfuls of laundry from the hamper and replacing them into a basket. "Unless of course I played at your level which I personally find would be significantly dis-interesting to me."

"Gee thanks, Bones," Booth replies with his voice filled with sarcasm. She certainly could lack grace when it came to conversing at times.

"You're welcome," she replies with complete sincerity. Brennan lifts the nearly filled basket and they relocate into the tiny room where her washer and dryer were held.

"And this makes you feel better?" he questions in a disbelieving tone.

"Yes," she says while piling the clothes into the filling tub of water. "Accomplishing some sort goal is always nice." Brennan tried to ignore the fact that her voice was hoarse and fading. It sounded a bit pathetic to her.

"If you say so." His own pent up energy was beginning to becoming more aware to him along with his growing hunger. The idea of a long run and a decent sized burger was sounding ever so nice to him right now. His fantasies are forgotten as he hears those awful sounds resonating from Brennan again, causing her to place a hand on to the washer in order to help support her weight. His instincts jump ahead of his brain as he goes over to her and wraps an arm around her small frame, alleviating the need for her to need the washer or any other item to help her remain standing. "Maybe I should finish with the laundry," he suggests and she nods breathlessly, walking over and trying to subtly lean her weight on to the dryer.

He tosses the items into the washer, ignoring what they were for his own sake. "We could always watch the sequel to the movie we just saw," he suggests as he closes the cover and hears the water swishing around.

"I do not even recall the basic plot line of the last one," Brennan admits to him. Her mind had been too far gone between her exhaustion and Booth's...well just Booth really. "I could make you some macaroni and cheese," she suggests, knowing just how much he loved it.

"I don't know about that, Bones. You're having a pretty hard time breathing." He really did not care for the idea of her cooking while choking on oxygen itself. "Besides I thought you were feeling sick to your stomach."

Brennan nearly addresses the fact that she had never told him that, despite that he was entirely right, but instead carries on with her argument. "I'm sure you are hungry and I could eat some."

Her eyes are fixated on him, using their powers of convincing him to do all sorts of things. What trouble those eyes had managed to get him into. "As long as you don't feel too sick," his voice sounds weary and uncertain, like he really meant something more along the lines of "I think you should go lay back down before your pass out from the lack of air." He can't seem to say no though. The thought of how irritated she must feel at this point of being unable to do much of anything did not help.

She simply gives him a small smile and then wanders towards the kitchen. He watches in awe as she somehow materializes several items from her cupboards and fridge. It was as though she had nothing and yet could still manage to make something from it. "Can I help?" he asks eagerly once his eyes stop following her with such focus.

"You can stir the pasta to keep it from sticking," she suggests and hands him a spoon to do so as she continues on with her tasks. Brennan made sure to cough only into her elbow and to not breathe directly on to any of the food. She was becoming increasingly concerned with the possibility of him contracting the illness.

"It's, uh, boiling," Booth alerts her while gesturing to the bubbles that had begun appearing in the water. He steps back and just watches in a bit of wonderment as she prepared everything, his heart aching when she had to stop the near perfected routine to cough and hack in a violent manner. She did not allow that to stop her much though.

Brennan places the dish into the oven and sets the timer. "I do hope it is okay," she comments, a strain of worry placed in her voice. "I have not made it since you and I last had it together."

"Wow, Bones," Booth replies, deciding to not touch on the issue of her actually being concerned of the food not being good enough. Ridiculous accusation. "Why so long?"

"Macaroni and cheese is not exactly my preferred meal," she tells him with a hint of a smile.

"Right, you eat all of those gross healthy meals," he teases to her, feeling a smile begin to fill his own face.

She begins to laugh only to have it filled with a choke of coughs. "I suppose we could always play that game of Scrabble while we wait," she suggests, her tone severely lacking any form of enthusiasm.

"How long until it's ready?"

"Forty minutes she says and her eyes follow him as he sits down on the couch, patting the spot next to him in suggestion for her to join him. She perches on the edge of the couch awkwardly, saying nothing outside of the violent bursts of air that came from her lungs. He smiles gently to her, and when he looks to her he can see that she was beginning to feel the exhaustion of being sick while trying to follow through with a few of some of her daily activities. Booth had also begun to notice that a few hours before the time for her next dosage of ibuprofen her fever would begin to start again, odds were the headache was becoming more forceful as well.

His heart swelled in sympathy, a part of him so desperate to take her to a hospital and have her properly cared for, with breathing treatments and something stronger to help her feel more at ease. The facts of Cam reassuring him that she would be fine as long as she stuck with the medication and that he knew just how much his Bones would hate going to a hospital helped him resist the desire.

Booth gestures in a way to suggest she lay down against him. He falls back against the couch first with an exaggerated "ah" of relief, a smile briefly lighting her face from it. She lays down directly on top of him, her initiative surprising him but he did not say anything, just hoped she would find comfort there against him.

She laid her head right on his chest, the sound of his slightly increased heart beat playing in her ear, like a gentle hum or lullaby. His arms circled her lovingly, holding her to him and keeping her from slipping from his grasp. She lets her fingers wander his chest, drawing gentle patterns along him in a dazed state. Her mind getting cloudy from sickness and from the amenity of it all.

Brennan felt such a sweet, luscious relaxation as she lay there with him. A feeling of desire resonating deep within her and building up until it felt like a fire. The thought of taking that leap, a leap of faith as Booth would label it, and finally plummeting into what she had longed for for so long caused her stomach to flutter in some strange and unfamiliar way. It caused her to grow excited with the thought of just what they could be. How life itself could be. She was of course unsure as to how that would work between the two of them in a way, the last monogamous relationship she had been in was with Sully after all and that had not ended so very well. Booth would want commitment and love, could she give him that? Could she be enough for him? Could she ever amount to what he deserved?

He looks down at her, smiling a smile, of love or of admiration or of basic happiness, she did not know, she could not tell. But there was a look in his eyes, a look that caused her to gain initiative and to take that step over the line. Hoping in an irrational manner that it did not backfire on her and result in the loss of what she loved so dearly.

She turns and presses her lips against him, very briefly, too briefly in her opinion. "I feel a little better now," she whispers shamelessly into his ear. Her soft, warm breath flowing against him.

"Am I good medicine?" he questions her jokingly, trying to not hyperventilate from the very sudden and seemingly random occurrence.

"You certainly taste better than what has been prescribed to me," she says knowing that it will cause him to both laugh and blush. Her own heart was still beating so quickly from the moment they'd had seconds before. She felt like she was soaring, only she was awfully close to the ground at this moment, a crash ever so possible right now.

"I don't think I help relieve chest congestion very much though," he says and takes the risk in pressing his lips to her temple gently. His own mind now beginning to go through the agonizing process of contemplating just what it was that was allotted between them now. What they were, where they stood. All of the questions that had to be asked and discussed, awkward conversations and horrifying unknowns.

"Let's check," she whispers sultry and pushes her lips against his with more force and for much longer than she had done before, pulling away when rough coughs begin to strongly overtake her.

"Easy there, Bones," he tells her and gently rubs her back. "We have plenty of time for this," he says and he takes comfort in his own comment. Because despite all of the questions and wonderings they were still Booth and Bones. Best friends and best partners, and whatever they may be now they would mesh together just as well as they always had in the past. Finding their footing and fitting together just perfectly. "Let's just relax for right now." And so they return to companionable silence. Just savoring the sweet moment they had.


End file.
